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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492856">It's Past The Closing Hours...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasy_Pens/pseuds/Fantasy_Pens'>Fantasy_Pens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Endgame Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Flustered Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Humor, They are college students, adrien does not swear, adrigami, but he does in the end, lots of flirting, very mild tomoe and gabriel salt implied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:26:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasy_Pens/pseuds/Fantasy_Pens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The scritch-scratch of her pencil keeps Adrien awake, reminding him constantly of his Physics homework. And of the impending doom that will follow if he doesn’t submit his assignment on time.</p>
<p>He needs to get this customer out of here soon. No matter how cute she is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Kagami Tsurugi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>January 2021 - Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's Past The Closing Hours...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMoonSky/gifts">SilverMoonSky</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First attempt at a Coffee Shop AU. Hope you like it, Silv! Kudos to Khan and River for beta reading the document at such a short notice &lt;3 And for Katie to hearing my idea out &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Tap, tap, tap.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>His fingers dance on the counter, as if he were playing the piano. The only difference is that the table let out not a melodic sound, but a monotone thump on being hit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tippity tap.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The quick drumming of his fingers resonates within him, easing his boredom a fraction. The tiny, rough notes echo in the nearly-empty room, followed by the delicious sound of a pencil scratching against paper.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It reminds him of his Physics homework that is due in two days. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not like he is procrastinating. Okay, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have procrastinated a bit, but then again, he doesn’t want to procrastinate now. It’s past closing hours anyways.  Adrien would’ve closed the café and hurried to his home, probably spending the next 2-3 hours crying over the senseless Physics formulae that he loved, but he cannot close the café when there are patrons still inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, a single patron, but the case is still the same.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien rests his chin on his hand as he stares at the lone customer listlessly. She is a girl about Marinette’s age,  probably a year or two younger than him. Raven hair cut in a bob frames her small face, and she carries an air of diligence and discipline about herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet the way she scrunches up her nose is…cute. Cute and adorable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien wonders what her smile looks like.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her concentration is fully focused on the laptop in front of her, her hands rapidly scribbling down notes. The scritch-scratch of her pencil keeps Adrien awake, reminding him constantly of his Physics homework. And of the impending doom that will follow if he doesn’t submit his assignment on time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He needs to get this customer out of here soon. No matter how cute she is.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tippy tippy tap. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you stop it?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sudden shout catches his off-guard, causing him to nearly jump in fright. He looks up to find burnt sienna eyes meeting his own. For a moment he finds himself lost in them, for they remind him of the 3 cups of bitter espresso that the woman ordered in the last 3 hours she has been here. However, the rational part of his brain soon catches up with him, and he realises that those eyes, heavily bloodshot, are actually glaring daggers at him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fear the wrath of a lady, and especially a lady who is high on caffeine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Nino had once told him. Adrien gulps anxiously.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh, h-how can I help you, Miss?” Adrien stammers as he subtly tries to hide himself underneath the counter, trying to shield himself from the figurative incoming daggers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stress on try, ‘cause by the way the woman cocks her eyebrow, it is clear that she has noticed his failed attempts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you always serve your customers by ducking under the counter?” she asks, her voice holding a trace of amusement. Her lips are twisted in a half-smile and Adrien breathes a sigh of relief.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At least she is no longer angry.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He straightens himself and dusts off his apron, before smiling at the woman. “Well, it’s not everyday we get cute customers here in the café. And cute people look scary when they are angry, y’know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman flushes red as she tries to tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, her gaze not meeting his. Adrien is confused at her reaction for a moment, before his brain retraces back to what he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s not everyday we get cute customers here in the café.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien claps a hand over his mouth as his eyes bug out, face flushing red. He had called the stern woman cute out of the blue! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could have called her anything, but he had to choose </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And he knows how cringey that sounds, and now the woman might grab him by the collar and kick his butt and he still didn’t have the chance to submit that Physics assignment and--</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-uh, thanks? No one has ever called me cute before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her response catches him off guard and he cannot control what he says next. “W-What?! But how? I mean, how dare they? You’re most certainly cute and if anyone tells you otherwise, tell me their name and I will personally kick their as-butt! I mean, kick their butt, yeah!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He did mean butt, and not the ‘a’ word. After all, the ‘no swearing’ rule is engraved too deep in his DNA, courtesy to his father.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh really?” The lady smirks as she leans her elbows on the counter, and Adrien subconsciously takes a step back. “I thought you meant something that starts with ‘a’ and ends in ‘s’ and has an ‘s’ in between.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I-I,” the blond barista stammers, tugging at his collar as he tries to not meet his patron’s gaze. “I guess I should stop talking, haha.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When did it get so stuffy and hot in here all of a sudden?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would have loved for you to keep me company, but if you want to stop talking, I don’t mind,” the lady says, her face dimming a bit. She straightens up again, putting up a stoic expression that completely clouds the happy expression she had on herself moments ago. “Anyways, I came here to tell you to stop that finger tapping. It is distracting me from my assignment.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, I’m sorry,” Adrien apologizes, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. A habit he has formed whenever he feels nervous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lady nods subtly and returns back to her seat to work. A little bit embarrassed by the encounter, Adrien turns to look around to find some work to do. He picks up a cleaning rag when the scritch-scratch sound of the pencil against paper fills the air again, reminding him of his own homework.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blond hardly managed to suppress a groan. He had planned to kick this customer out and yet here he is, cleaning rags in hand as he mopes over the mysterious beauty in red who is reminding him of his Physics homework.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, Adrien starts cleaning the already spotless countertop, his mind wandering places. He tries hard to search for some distraction that can hopefully help him forget about his study woes for some time, and his attention is grabbed by the patron in the café.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She is once again lost in her own world, her bloodshot eyes trained on her laptop. Her leg bobs rapidly against her chair, highlighting her nervousness. Her table is a mess of papers and pens, and Adrien wonders when was the last time she actually slept.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She lets out a frustrated huff before slumping over the table. Adrien abandons his task to walk over to her, concerned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she manages to mutter out, dragging a hand over her face. The woman straightens up and tries to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Adrien instinctively grabs her wrist to stop her, dropping it immediately as if the skin contact burned him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She ducks her head before looking up at him, confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rubbing your eyes is not a healthy practice. You should get some sleep,” Adrien says, voice laced with concern. The woman looks at him flabbergasted for a moment. She smiles a little, nodding in reply before turning back to her device.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have this Physics assignment due in two days, and I really need to get some decent grades to avoid slacking in class. Or else, my mom…” She stops speaking for a second, before smiling ruefully. “My mom would be worried and yeah, I don’t want to worry her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see,” Adrien nods. “I myself have a Physics assignment due in two days.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>“What, really?” The woman looks up at him excitedly. “Are you, by any chance, studying at </span><em><span>Unniversité</span></em> <em><span>Sorbonne</span></em><span>?”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“I actually am!” Adrien exclaims. “Why, are you a student there too?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, year 2. I am guessing you are in the same year too?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely!” Adrien lets out a laugh. He mulls over the faces he has seen in his lecture classes, but doesn’t have any recollection of this lady. He is sure he has seen her for the first time today, for could never forget a pretty face like that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I totally didn’t even start the assignment,” Adrien finally speaks, nudging the conversation in some direction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh gosh, you must be kidding,” the woman says, surprised. At his headshake, the woman gasps. “My, what are you doing here then?! That assignment is one tough task!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I know, I would’ve been gone eons ago,” he raises his hand in mock surrender, a small smirk playing on his lips. “But, cannot lock a lady alone in the café, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes widen in surprise, and she quickly checks the time on her screen. “Gosh, it is past midnight! Doesn’t the café close at like, 10?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“10.30 actually, but yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Chikushō!” The different language makes Adrien sure that the woman has come to France recently. “Why didn’t you kick me out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She starts to hastily pack her stuff up, and he gives her a hand. Stacking up her messed up papers, he hands them over to her and is rewarded by a grateful look.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, you seemed pretty hyperfocused on your task. And then again, you’re a little… scary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scary, you say?” She pauses in her packing, giving him an amused look. “If I remember right, you called me cute not ten minutes ago, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Adrien flushes red, rubbing the back of his neck as he lets out a laugh. “Well, I uh… I just thought a compliment would lighten up your mood.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As would have another shot of espresso,” she quickly replies back, her lips twitching upwards. It makes Adrien’s heart do a little tap dance. “But I guess I won’t be getting another?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nuh-uh, young miss, you’ve had enough caffeine to last you for two days,” he wags a finger at her playfully, and she swats at her hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There is nothing like enough coffee…” her voice trails off as it wanders to his chest. “Adrien.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, how did you know my name?” he blurts out immediately without thinking. She points at his chest in reply.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His nametag. Of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out a frustrated groan at his idiocy.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like someone else is in need of some much-needed sleep, too,” she quips at him, and he gives her a lazy smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I had plans to catch up on my assignment, but I guess I will need to crash soon.” He runs a hand through his hair before throwing a wink at her. “Found the perfect excuse in the café today.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She crosses her arms over her chest, a smirk playing on her lips. “Are you flirting with me, Adri-san?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” he shrugs. “Though I can stop if you want. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable even in the slightest.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She slings her bag over her shoulder, smiling at him. “It’s okay, I have never been called cute or pretty before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s a shame,” he mutters, taking his apron off. “People need to get a new set of eyeballs, I guess. Anyways, wait here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He walks over to the counter. Hanging the apron off a hook, Adrien bends down to retrieve the last batch of Mango White Chocolate macarons that are kept there. He would have taken them home anyways, and then again, the greatest joy lies in sharing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He quickly packs six macarons in a box and puts them in a paper bag. He extends the bag over to the woman, and she cocks an eyebrow in surprise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Consider this as a makeup for the coffee you crave,” Adrien laughs. “Don’t worry, it’s on the house.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why, thank you.” She takes the bag from him and dives her hand inside. Moments later, she fishes out a delicacy and bites into it, humming in delight. “You sure know the way to charm a lady’s heart.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sugar always sweetens up relationships,” Adrien winks at her again, and she shakes her head fondly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks for the treats again.” Readjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, the woman moves to walk out of the café. However, she just pauses in the doorframe, turning to look at him over her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I do owe you a name for all the hospitality. Call me…” she pauses for a while, probably thinking over something. A light shines in her eyes as her face lights up. “Ryuuko. Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He crosses his arms over his chest, a lazy smile on his face. “Playing code names?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe~” She winks back at him, and Adrien is half sure he melted on the spot.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyways, I won’t keep you lingering any longer.” Ryuuko giggles as she opens the café door, and the small bell on the top jingles. It, however, is nothing compared to the melody of her laugh. “Thanks again for the fun company, Adrien.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, you too,” Adrien mumbles back stupidly, before backtracking. “I mean! Thanks for the awesome company. Makes missing Physics homework all worth it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really hope you complete it on time. After all, I need my knight in a frilly apron to be alive so that he can kick some…” She pauses for effect, and Adrien gulps. This woman is going to be the death of him, for sure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kick what?” He finally asks, his ears tinged a bit pink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kick some </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass</span>
  </em>
  <span> the next time a person doesn’t call me cute.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And dropping that incriminating word, the mysterious Ryuuko finally leaves, the door shutting close behind her. There is a strange, heavy moment of silence, before Adrien falls to the ground with a thud.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knows he is in the middle of a childish romantic crisis. He knows that he has been totally screwed over by the entrancing patron. He knows that the setting is totally a cheesy movie cliche.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to swear, but…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Adrien finally mutters out. He hides his face in his hands, waiting for the arrival of his father's disapproving glare. But instead... </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A laugh leaves his lips, starting weakly before eventually filling the whole café. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ryuuko would be so proud of him.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Story also shared on my <a href="https://mininoire.tumblr.com/">Main tumblr</a> and <a href="https://noirewrites.tumblr.com/">Writing Tumblr</a>.</p>
<p>If you are looking for a friendly MLB community to discuss your ideas, plots or share views regarding the show, or to simply be a part of a MLB server, join the <a href="https://discord.gg/mlfanworks">Miraculous Fanworks Discord server</a> today!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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